


Light

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: For a few nights, her sleep in undisturbed. And then, when Eidis is certain everything is over, than she has let go and is ready to try to move on, the dreams begin.(Eidis tries to deal with the choices she made in Sun in Shadow.)





	Light

**Author's Note:**

> (prompt 1: homecoming)

When she returns to Caed Nua, Invar and Tegwen are waiting for her. The druid stops at the gates, but Invar keeps walking, arms outstretched, brow furrowed with worry. It is not difficult to guess the reason – Eidis is aware of how she looks. Pale face, gaunt cheeks, no single darker strand in her hair which has gone completely white...

Invar stops in front of her momentarily, bright eyes full of compassion. “Child...”

Eidis looks up at him, without a word, knowing he can see the anguish in her eyes. He asks no questions, just pulls her into a tight hug. Her fingers curl into his robe and she rests her forehead against his shoulder.

“I did what I had to,” Eidis whispers, her voice brittle like dead adra. “I had to...” She is not crying, just shaking uncontrollably.

Invar strokes her hair, like he used to when she was a little girl and scraped her knees while running around the temple. Because to him, she probably still is that girl.

“Don’t, child,” he says softly. “There will be time for words. But not now.”

Over his shoulder, she catches a glimpse of a cloud of dark hair as Tegwen walks over to Edér and the others and starts talking to them in a hushed but firm voice, either asking or giving orders. Probably both.

Eidis takes a deeper, slower breath and some of the tension dissipates as she realises she can forget responsibilities for a while. Caed Nua was fine during her travels, in Invar’s and Tegwen’s charge, and they can take care of the keep for a while longer.

The priest puts a hand on her head and she feels his palm warm up with a spell or a blessing. “Rest, child. This is the time for rest.”

As soon as he finishes the sentence, Eidis falls asleep.

* * *

For a few nights, her sleep in undisturbed. She just lies down on the bed, wraps herself in blankets and closes her eyes, and there is nothing but soft, comforting darkness. Sometimes, there is starlight, or the murmur of falling rain, or the glow of candles reflected in stained glass windows. Simple, safe, good things.

And then, when Eidis is certain everything is over, than she has let go and is ready to try to move on, the dreams begin.

There is the sound of adra beating in the air like a heart, filling the dark chamber, and the eerie greenish glow reflecting on the floor tiles and a puddle of blood. She is standing over Thaos’ lifeless body, his hair still grey, but most of the wrinkles on his face smoothed out, as if her decision has erased his burden. Except it is not peace, but fire, not smoothing, but melting. Eidis cries out as the flames –thankfully – mercifully consume his body, and she can see nothing but the fire.

Her own words echo in her mind, an answer she gave her mother once, when she was a child with head full of enthusiasm and hope. _When I grow up,_ _I want to make light!_

A voice speaks, deep and resonant, cold and calm, but the reply stings all the more for it. “Here is your light, girl,” Woedica says out of her statue, her stone lips curving into a mocking smile. “Isn’t it lovely?”

Eidis wakes up trembling, covering her mouth with both hands to suppress a cry. She curls up again, pressing her face against the pillow, and discovers that she still has some tears left. She weeps quietly into the first hours of the morning, afraid to fall asleep again.

* * *

The dream returns every night. Some details differ, but always, always there is Thaos’ body, the flames, and Woedica’s voice cruelly mocking her childhood dream. And even though she knows it is nothing but a nightmare, it seems terrifyingly real and leaves her shaken and gasping for breath which immediately turns into a sob.

This night she is dreaming again, same chamber, same memory burning down in the same fire. She wants to cry, to shout that she is tired of this, that she knows what will happen – did happen – that she does not need a reminder to carry those images with her until the end of her life.

“What lovely light you make, girl,” Woedica says out of her statue, her stone lips curving into a mocking smile.

And then Thaos’ eyes flicker open from behind the flame curtain, and Eidis wails, reaches out even though she knows there is nothing she can do...

The flames burst into sunlight, which then slowly pales into a single point of light – a soul, held like a lantern by a fair-haired man draped in a simple robe and a tattered, faded cloak, wielding a sickle in his other hand. On his head, there is a crown of wheat spikes and stars.

“She does,” he says in a voice that sounds like the whispers of wind over fields of corn. When he turns to Eidis, his eyes are aglow with sunrise. “I’ve heard your words, child.” He opens his hand, and the soul flies away into a new life, unburdened. Free. “See what beautiful light you make, Watcher. See and remember.”

Eidis wakes with a soft, startled cry. There are tears on her cheeks again, but those feel different. They wash away some of the bitterness.

She slowly gets up and glances through the window. There are drops of water on the glass; it has been raining.

Eidis changes into a robe, wraps a warm woollen shawl around her shoulders and walks out into the garden. In the first light of dawn, everything looks like molten silver, and the air smells of rain, wet grass and damp earth – of things growing, fresh herbs, flowers about to open and seeds about to sprout into life. There is a lone figure strolling among the plants, greying hair gleaming like gold in the faint sunlight – Invar. Eidis smiles and walks up to him, greeting him with a small nod.

“You were right,” she says quietly, feeling a bit more confident now, and much calmer. “There is time for rest and time for talk. And I think I’ve put my worries to rest, if only for a while...”

The priest smiles briefly. “I’m glad.”

For a moment, Eidis is silent. She kneels to pluck a stem of pilgrim’s crown, then gets up, hiding her face in the flowers and inhaling the sweet scent.

“I’m ready to talk,” she whispers.

“That’s good.” Invar nods slowly. “Because it’s high time I told you something, child...” When he looks at her, his eyes are aglow with sunrise.


End file.
